


The Great Danish Crocodile Cook-Off

by a_t_rain



Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Genre: Alligators & Crocodiles, Crack, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 14:43:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18875281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_t_rain/pseuds/a_t_rain
Summary: This is entirely the fault of angevin2, who said she wanted the version ofHamletwhere, instead of a swordfight, it ends with a crocodile cook-off.





	The Great Danish Crocodile Cook-Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angevin2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angevin2/gifts).



> This is entirely the fault of angevin2, who said she wanted the version of _Hamlet_ where, instead of a swordfight, it ends with a crocodile cook-off.

“’Swounds!” shouted Hamlet across Ophelia’s grave, “show me what thou’lt do! Woo’t weep? Woo’t fight? Woo’t fast? Woo’t tear thyself? Woo’t drink up eisel? Eat a crocodile? I’ll do’t?”

“Very _well_ , then,” replied Laertes, struggling against Marcellus and Bernardo, who were restraining him. “I’ll eat a crocodile too!”

* * *

This was _not_ the murder-plot that Claudius had had in mind. After going to great pains to arrange a fencing-contest between the two young men, in which things would have fallen out so cunningly that neither he nor Laertes would have seemed to bear the least guilt in Hamlet’s death, he suddenly found himself forced to host a crocodile-eating competition at Elsinore instead.

“Osric,” he asked hopefully, “are crocodiles poisonous?” If _neither_ young man survived the contest, that might work out rather well; Laertes had been troublesome in his own way of late, and in any case, he knew too much.

“I regret to inform your most celestial and exalted majesty that such a question exceedeth the utmost bourne of my knowledge, even as the infinite sea surpasseth a mill-pond. Your majesty is ever most subtle and penetrating in your inquiries.”

“Well, go and find out, will you?”

Osric searched the palace library and returned with a volume entitled _The Great Book of the Crocodile_.

“It sayeth here,” he read dutifully, “that your crocodile is bred now of your mud by the operation of your sun, as is the serpent of Egypt.”

“That sounds hopeful,” said Claudius. The serpent of Egypt was surely poisonous; or, at the very least, it sounded like the sort of creature on which a mysterious death could be _blamed_ , much like the serpent of Denmark. “Read on.”

“The crocodile is shaped, sir, like itself; and it is as broad as it hath breadth; it is just so high as it is, and moveth with its own organs; it liveth by that which nourisheth it; and the elements once out of it, it transmigrates. It is of its own color too; and the tears of it are wet.”

Claudius had the distinct impression that _The Great Book of the Crocodile_ was not going to be as informative as he had hoped.

* * *

The great day arrived at last; two crocodiles were shipped from Egypt, fed on live chickens along the way, and unloaded at Elsinore to great fanfare. They were evidently young specimens, and not nearly as big as expected; but Hamlet and Laertes, eyeing them warily, thought they were quite large enough. They certainly had a baleful expression and a great many teeth.

There was a lot of flurried, anxious discussion in the palace kitchens about how to prepare them and who was going to kill them. In the end, it seemed best to do all of the necessary preparations outdoors, and to roast them on spits over a hot fire.

* * *

Hamlet took a wary bite of the pale meat. It proved to be bland and chewy, but not actually disgusting. He had an inspiration and reached for the flagon of vinegar that he and Laertes had both pledged to drink to Ophelia’s memory after the meal. Yes, he decided after another bite, it definitely tasted better with a splash of vinegar.

* * *

Claudius shuffled uncomfortably and fingered the pearl of poison in his pocket. He had intended to dissolve it in Hamlet’s flagon, just as Cleopatra was said to have done when she feasted Mark Antony; but with his wretched stepson keeping his vinegar close at hand and using it liberally as crocodile sauce, he feared that he might not get the opportunity.

It was an unusually warm day for Denmark, and the king was standing upwind of the embers of the fire that had been used to prepare the crocodiles. He began to perspire.

* * *

Laertes was about two-thirds of the way through his crocodile, feeling as if he couldn’t possibly eat another bite, when Queen Gertrude called out “Look to the king!” He thought at first that Claudius had only fainted from the heat, but then Horatio said that he thought the king was dead; from a stroke of apoplexy, perhaps, or some ailment of the heart.

“No,” said Laertes, by this time at the king’s side. Osric and Voltimand had turned Claudius on his back and were trying to resuscitate him; his hand had fallen open, and Laertes could see that there was a strange white goo sticking to his palm. “Let no one touch his hand; the pearl he is holding was poisoned.”

Marcellus and Bernardo’s swords suddenly bristled at his throat. “How do you know?” Marcellus demanded. “Did you give it him?”

“No,” said Laertes again, putting his hands up in surrender and feeling _very much_ as if crocodile did not agree with him. “I – I wish to turn King’s Evidence.”

Hamlet, by this time, had joined the knot of courtiers around Claudius’s body and was looking askant at Laertes. “What king?” he asked, in a voice that might be ironic. Or not.

Laertes gulped. “You,” he said reluctantly, “if you will allow it.”

“Very well,” said Hamlet, this time meeting Laertes’ gaze straight on. “Tell what you have to tell.”

“He meant to poison your drink, my lord. I – I heard him say so. He must have planned to do it after the contest, not knowing the pearl would be fatal to _him_ if he held it in his hand too long.”

There was a murmur of shock from the crowd – all of them except Hamlet and Horatio, who seemed entirely unsurprised by this revelation. Well, Laertes thought, at least he’d be _believed_ by the new king. Much good that it would do him.

Hamlet’s eyes had narrowed. “And, I take it, he spoke so freely in your presence because you were a party to his plot?”

“Aye, my lord,” said Laertes miserably. “For my father. And for my sister.” He wanted to attempt some more stirring piece of oratory in his own defense, but was hindered by the fact that he suddenly found himself puking up crocodile all over King Claudius’s corpse.

God help him, was King Hamlet _laughing_ at the situation? “Well,” said Hamlet, when he was able to talk at last, “’tis well for you that you turned King’s Evidence. I trust you will not plot against my life again.”

* * *

And that is why, throughout King Hamlet II’s long and prosperous reign, the courtiers always celebrated the anniversary of the king’s accession with a crocodile barbecue. Except Laertes, who was never able to bring himself to touch crocodile again.


End file.
